Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Do me a favor, okay?” I ask as we step into the hall together. “Make sure the drop is long enough that my neck snaps.”
He grunts. “You have a sick sense of humor.”
“Didn’t realize I was joking.”
We walk together toward the chapel. The sound of milling guests echoes through the narrow halls. The ceremony is taking place at one of the biggest churches in the city, a fact my mother has made sure to tell me multiple times leading up to now.
“If it helps at all, I asked around about Liam.” He keeps his eyes grimly forward, not looking at me. “He’s hard to get a read on, but everyone I’ve talked to says some variation of the same thing. He’s solid. He’s dependable.”
“He’ll make a great husband?”
“Probably not, but he’ll be good to you at least.”
“God, sweep me off my feet now. I’m head over heels for good to me at least.”
“Come on, Regan. I know this is fucking crazy, but everyone’s trying—“
“Maybe that’s the problem?” I stop and turn on him, my heart racing into my throat. “Everyone’s trying so hard to make this work instead of asking if we should be doing it at all. Seriously Luke, your sister is about to marry a total stranger, all for dad’s business. Isn’t that insane? Why are we all letting this happen?”
He looks at the ground. For a desperate moment, I think he might agree, might even say something to help my situation. Maybe he’ll offer to get me the hell out of here. But instead, he only shakes his head.
“You don’t understand. It’s not Dad’s business… it’s the whole organization, Regan. This is going to change our life. You’ll see.”
If there was any hope left in me at all, it gets crushed under his lifeless expression. I gather myself, force a smile on my face to keep from throwing up, and slip my hand through Luke’s arm.
“Yeah, you’re right. It’ll be fine. I know it will.”
“Regan—“
“Let’s go, okay? Dad’s waiting and God knows Mom will literally murder me if we hold up her precious schedule.”
He seems like he wants to say something else, but instead we start walking. “You should’ve heard her comments about my tie. Apparently, it’s not the right color.”
“Monster.”
“Guilty.” He pats my arm as we step out into the atrium. It’s quiet now as the guests are gathered in the main room. Dad’s near the doors with the wedding planner. Piano music filters out. “You’ll be alright. I’ll see you when it’s over.”
“Yeah. I’ll see you.” I want to grip him, hold on to him, but he pulls away and walks off, pausing only to say something to Dad before slipping into the chapel.
Leaving me alone to face this nightmare.
I have a few quiet seconds to steel myself before my father comes over. He doesn’t look happy as he checks his watch and gets the move it sign from the planner. “It’s our turn,” he grunts briefly before fixing me with a hard look. “You’re good?”
Far from it. Good is a planet in some distant solar system. I see the light of good on a million-year delay at best.
“I’m fine.”
“Alright.” He awkwardly holds out an elbow. “This’ll be over soon.”
The wedding planner ushers us forward and pushes open the doors.
“People keep talking about this like I’m going to be killed.”
He grimaces as the crowd turns toward us. There are so many faces it’s overwhelming. I’m dimly aware of the sea of them, their attention like a weight drowning me.
“Nobody ever said marriage was easy,” he grumbles and starts forward down the aisle.
CHAPTER 15
REGAN
It’s not fair. None of this is fair.
I’m supposed to be standing up here in front of a room filled with violent strangers, hating every second of my own wedding.
Instead, there’s Liam.
Looking at me with hungry eyes and a dangerous smile. Hands laced against mine. Calloused fingers squeezing every time my attention drifts away, dragging me back. His cheeks covered in stubble, his hair styled perfectly, his tuxedo making him look even more deadly. Handsome in a way he’s got no right to be.
His touch is warm and comforting, and it’s wrong, it’s all wrong.
I should be hating every second.
Instead, I find myself trying not to smile back, struggling against the bizarre medley of butterflies breaking against my stomach. I’m weirdly nervous as the priest goes through the ceremony, and I should probably pay attention since this is also a covenant with God, but I can’t bring myself to think about anyone other than the devil I’m marrying.
I know that mouth. I know what it feels like between my legs. I know what he sounds like when he comes, what it feels like when he sinks inside of me, how his strong arms tug me closer. I know the rhythms of him in ways I definitely shouldn’t.